Chapter Seven
Sabine gave Mildred a hug and crossed the street to her building. They’d sat in the restaurant for hours, starting with catfish and ending with far too many cups of coffee. Now it was getting late and the hour coupled with the storm that was moving in had brought darkness to the dimly lit downtown area. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move off to her left. She whirled around and stared into the inky darkness, trying to make out where the movement had come from. Two buildings down was a stack of crates outside of the general store on the corner. The owner’s car was parked in front of the crates parallel to the sidewalk, even though the lines clearly were painted perpendicular. No matter, since there was so little activity this late in the evening.
She took a couple of steps closer to the end of the street and peered closely at the stack of crates. Was there something moving behind it? She shot a look back at the restaurant and bit her lip. There were only a few patrons inside and with the music playing and the general buzz of talking and serving, it would be unlikely anyone inside would hear her if she called for help.
Go back to your apartment, lock yourself inside, and call the police.
And tell them what? That you’re spooked over some creepy diary entry from forty years ago? Yeah, they’d love to hear that, especially after her phone call today, asking for an update on their nonexistent investigation on her break-in. Sabine got the impression that if Leroy and company never heard from her or Maryse again as long as they lived, it would be too soon. The Mudbug police were well-equipped to deal with drunk and disorderlies, or poaching, or off-season hunting, but breaking and entering and murder went a bit beyond their scope.
Then another thought crossed her mind—what if it was Hank? He wasn’t exactly square with the local law, so hiding behind a bunch of crates waiting to talk to her wouldn’t be a stretch. “Hank? Is that you?” Silence.
She bit her lower lip, then pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She pressed in 9-1-1 and slipped her phone into her palm, her thumb hovering over the Talk button. At least she could scream. They wouldn’t have any idea where she was making the call from, but the police station was at the far end of town and surely someone would come running outside if she made the call. Surely.
She took a deep breath and headed toward the crates. One, two, three, four, five, she counted each step as she went, like knowing the number somehow made a difference. The crates were only twenty feet or so away and she stood stock still, trying to make out any shift in the shadows cast out into the street, straining to hear anything besides the wind blowing between the buildings.
Nothing.
She let out her breath and shook her head. You’re imagining things, Sabine, and the only thing you’re accomplishing is scaring yourself. What was the point? If she wanted to lay wide-eyed in her bed all night, there was a twenty-four-hour run of horror movies on one of the local channels. At least that way she could have dry, non-blinking eyes and a pounding heart in the comfort of her pajamas and her bed. Not to mention a glass of wine to thin the blood and a double-fudge chocolate brownie to top off the sugar coma.
Then something moved again, just beyond the crates.
If she hadn’t been looking directly at the shadows cast far out into the street, she would have missed the tiny sliver of movement, but she was certain she hadn’t imagined it. Something was behind those crates. The shadow had seemed too long for an animal, so that left only one other option. And the only reason to lurk in the shadows was if you were up to no good.
She tightened her grip on her phone and leaned over to the side, trying to peer beneath the car. “Hank, is that you? If it is, come out. You’re giving me the creeps.”
And that’s when he rammed her, his shoulder catching her right in the collar bone.
She’d grossly miscalculated, Sabine thought as she slammed down onto the sidewalk. He hadn’t been behind the crates. He’d been hiding in the shadows on the side of the car, not five feet from where she’d stopped to listen. She screamed as she hit the ground, pain shooting through her shoulder as it took the brunt of the fall. She struggled to press the Talk button on her cell phone, but the fall had jostled it in her hand, and Sabine was certain the call didn’t make it through.
She rolled over and jumped up as fast as possible, knowing that a standing opponent was in a much better position to defend themselves than one lying down, but she was no sooner standing than the ski-masked figure shoved her, trying to knock her to the ground again. Sabine struggled to maintain her balance, and for a moment, she didn’t think she was going to manage. But at the last moment, she managed to spin around and clock the masked figure in the shoulder with her heel.
The attacker stumbled backward. Through the slits in his mask, Sabine could see his eyes widen with surprise. He paused only a second to stare at her, then turned and ran into the woods at the edge of downtown. Sabine stared after him, sending up thanks for the seven years that she’d spent the time and money driving to New Orleans for martial arts lessons. Finally deciding that he wasn’t going to try for a repeat performance, she picked up her cell phone from the sidewalk and hurried down the sidewalk to the police station.
No use sending up the alarm…especially not with Mildred right across the street and already worried about her. Her attacker was long gone and short of an Olympic sprinter or a bloodhound, there was going to be no catching him. Not tonight anyway. She paused for a moment before opening the door to the police station. This was really a waste of time, and she knew it, but regardless of their ability, it was still their problem. Maybe if odd things continued to happen around town, the city council might just figure out that an inept ex-fisherman and his otherwise unemployable nephew might not be the best choices to keep the city safe. She sighed as she pulled the door open.
Getting a competent police force was as likely as the town banning beer and losing religion.
Sabine exited the police station after what was probably the most frustrating thirty minutes of her life. Oh, there was a whole lot of writing—longhand—on legal pads, and the constant nodding and glances between Leroy and his idiot nephew, but it all amounted to nothing. The reality was, the business with Maryse had shocked the town but absolutely no one was willing to believe it was anything but an isolated incident—the ravings of a madman. And now that the madman was gone, there couldn’t possibly be anything more than the normal redneck offenses going on in Mudbug.
At least that’s what they wanted to believe.
There was noise across the street and she looked up in time to see the last of the patrons leaving the restaurant and the owner locking the door behind them. She glanced down at her watch and sighed. It was past time for her to be in pajamas, and she was going to regret every minute of her Kill Bill routine the next morning when her alarm went off.
“Is everything all right?” The voice sounded close to her and caused her to jump. Beau was standing next to his truck.
“Oh,” she said, flustered. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s not, I mean…I just didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I needed to talk to a few people around the area. The conversations went a bit longer than I thought they would, and I was hungry.” He shrugged. “I decided to have dinner before I started the drive back. So…is everything all right?”
Sabine shook her head. “No. I don’t think so, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Beau stepped onto the sidewalk and looked closely at her. “What happened?”
“I saw someone lurking in the shadows on the corner when I left the restaurant.” She let out a single laugh. “Listen to me—lurking in the shadows. I sound like a B horror movie.” She looked at Beau, expecting to see him smiling, but his expression was serious and he didn’t look happy.
“Lurking where, exactly?”
Sabine pointed to the end of the street. “The corner, just in front of the general store. I know I should have just minded my own business and gone home, but after the attempted break-in at my shop, I thought maybe someone was trying to break into the store.”
“And you thought you’d apprehend a thief? Why in the world would you put yourself at risk like that? You’ve got a police station just down the block.”
Sabine smirked. “Yes, and the state of our policemen is why I thought I was a better choice for the job. I might look fragile, but I assure you I can take care of myself.”
“Really…you packing?”
“No. I mean, not on me. I do have a pistol if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Not going to do you a bit of good in your sock drawer.”
Sabine sighed. “Look. I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I’m trained in martial arts—seven years of training to be exact.”
“So you learned that new how-to-stop-a-bullet karate move. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Oh, good Lord! Are you always this aggravating? So maybe I shouldn’t have gone looking for trouble, although I hardly equate walking down Main Street with entering a war zone. Besides, I didn’t get anything but a little dirt on my pants, but the guy sneaking around is going to feel the throbbing in his shoulder for a couple of days.”
Beau studied her for a moment, then smiled. “Martial arts, huh? I assume you kicked him?”
“Yeah, I was off-balance so I used it to my advantage.”
“I’m impressed. That’s an advanced reaction. Well, at least let me walk you home. I know you don’t need an armed guard, but you’ll damage my chivalrous male ego if you turn me down.”
Sabine stared at him, aggravated that she hadn’t insulted his manhood, aggravated that he was impressed, aggravated most of all because she liked the fact that he was impressed. “Fine. If we run into trouble between here and the thirty steps to my doorway, you are free to take control.”
Beau grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He fell in step with Sabine and they walked up the sidewalk to her building. For just a moment, Sabine thought he was going to take her hand in his and found herself disappointed when he didn’t. What the heck are you thinking? If he touches you, it’s all over. Get your mind off the guy and onto bigger problems.
They were halfway to her building, but the walk already felt like it had taken hours. She had to find something to take her mind off the gorgeous man next to her. Something to keep her from committing the ultimate sin—inviting him inside. She scanned the businesses on Main Street looking for inspiration. Catfish, banks, dirty car, special on canned goods, massage—crap! She blinked once and looked past the Mudbug Hair Salon & Spa. Rubbing naked bodies wasn’t likely to make her forget anything—in fact in the split second it had crossed her mind, she’d added two or three more things to the list of what she’d like to do with Beau Villeneuve.
“Something else on your mind?” Beau asked.
“No.” Sabine held in a groan, certain her face was flaming red. Thank God for a cheap town and dim street lights. “I mean, no more than any other day.”
“You’ve got a lot going on. Maybe you ought to take a break.”
“And do what? Even if I had unlimited funds and someone to take over my business for a while, geography isn’t going to stop my mind from whirling.”
Beau sighed. “No, it’s not.”
Sabine stopped in front of her shop and looked at him. “You say that like someone who tried it.”
“Tried it and failed miserably.” He looked down at the sidewalk.
Sabine bit her lip, knowing she should let this conversation end and go inside, but her curiosity had already gotten the better of her. “So how far did you travel to not forget?”
Beau looked back up at her. “In miles—who knows? Three continents, eleven countries, God knows how many cities, and a couple of islands that aren’t even on the maps.”
“Wow. You weren’t kidding. I’ve never even been out of Louisiana.”
Beau stared. “Wow. You’re kidding.”
Sabine held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. Unless you count the Gulf of Mexico for an offshore fishing trip.”
Beau laughed. “Not exactly a world tour.”
“No big deal, I guess. And the way things have been lately, there’s plenty of excitement in Mudbug.”
Beau’s expression sobered. “A personal tour of the Australian outback is exciting. What’s been going on in Mudbug lately is criminal, and that’s just dangerous.” He looked up and down the front of the shop building, then twisted the front door handle. “You sure you don’t want me to take a look around? Everything looks okay, but…”
Sabine shook her head. “I’ll be fine, but I appreciate the offer and the walk. Besides, you have a bit of a drive back to New Orleans.”
Beau stared at her for a moment, as if he was contemplating saying something, or God forbid, doing something, but finally he nodded. “All right then. Goodnight, Sabine.” He headed back down the sidewalk to his truck and Sabine let herself into the shop and made sure the new lock was turned all the way. She peeked out between the blinds and saw Beau sitting in his truck, looking at her shop. He waited a couple of seconds more before starting his truck and pulling away.
Sabine sighed. The triple threat—sexy, intelligent, and kind. Beau Villeneuve was the kind of distraction she just didn’t need, but damned if she didn’t want him anyway.